


When Doves Cry.

by millygal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Knife Play, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 09:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10614303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: He tastes just as good as he looks.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Evil!Sammy roulette - Song: When Doves Cry.

_Dig if you will the picture_   
_Of you and I engaged in a kiss_   
_The sweat of your body covers me_   
_Can you my darling_   
_Can you picture this?_

The removal of his soul hasn't hindered Sam, it hasn't crippled him; it's enlightened him, lifted him free of the tethers of humanity and a conscience that weighed him down until he felt like he was wading through treacle.

Maybe it's a little like removing one of his senses; the others all up their game. If he were blind, he could scent his brother's need on the air. If he were deaf, he could see the fine sheen of sweat covering every inch of his naked bloodied body.

As it is, he doesn't **feel** the agony rolling off Dean in waves, he simply knows there's pain festering within his blackened soul.

"Come on Sammy, you can do better than that! I didn't raise you to pull your punches little brother!"

Sam's lip twitches. The tiniest of smirks, meant only for the man chained to the wall in front of him, "Who knew muddying your soul would turn you into a masochist, Dean?"

Dean's eyes saturate with the oily blackness Sam's been swimming in since he found his brother in that alleyway, "What can I say, becoming a Demon is a little like that one drink over the line, it washes away _all_ your inhibitions."

_Dream if you can a courtyard_   
_An ocean of violets in bloom_   
_Animals strike curious poses_   
_They feel the heat_   
_The heat between me and you_

Sam advances, fingers already dripping with Dean's precious blood. Rivulets running down his arm as he raises his hand to cup his brother's cheek, "Do you taste as good as you smell, Dean? If I licked my fingers, would it make me want to crawl inside you?"

Dean lets Sam's words wash over him, allows the feel of cold steal against heated skin peel away yet another layer of his cracked and shattered soul, "Please."

Sam's head snaps up, eyes flicking from the tiny shallow cuts creating an abstract pattern across Dean's blood spackled thighs, "What? Please **what**?"

The Demon in Dean rages against the walls of his mind, clawing and howling, refusing to cede control, even though he is pretty much boned six ways from Sunday if Soulless boy wants. It's one thing to let himself get chained up and cut to ribbons, it's another to beg for the indignity.

_How can you just leave me standing?_   
_Alone in a world that's so cold? (So cold)_   
_Maybe I'm just too demanding_   
_Maybe I'm just like my father too bold_   
_Maybe you're just like my mother_   
_She's never satisfied (She's never satisfied)_   
_Why do we scream at each other_   
_This is what it sounds like_   
_When doves cry_

Sam watches Dean's need for release fight with the humiliation of dominance removed and he can't help the well of pride bubbling up from within, "If you want it, you need to say it Dean. Please what?"

Dean's teeth cut clean through his bottom lip as he growls at the over-confident smugness radiating across the distance between them, " _Please_ taste me, **take** me!"

Sam spins the paper thin blade between practiced fingers before closing the gap between them, "As you wish."

The bite of metal tearing away layer after layer of flesh, twisting deeper and deeper until Dean can't tell the difference between the hollow ache in the pit of his stomach and the throbbing pulse making his cock jut out proud and full, forces his hips to snap forward and the blade to slide even further into his body.

" _Fuck_...Did you just quote The Princess Bride _Jesus_ whilst flaying your demon big brother, man you are beyond sick!"

Sam gives no indication he's heard Dean other than a small wolfish grin, showing the predator he's become.

_Touch if you will my stomach_   
_Feel how it trembles inside_   
_You've got the butterflies all tied up_   
_Don't make me chase you_   
_Even doves have pride_

Crouching in front of Dean's splayed legs, watching his brother's cock bob invitingly in front of his face, Sam ignores the weeping tip in favour of the tiny trail of blood snaking fast and steady down taught straining thighs, "Beautiful. I had no idea you could bleed _so_ **very** well, Dean."

Dean dare not speak, dare not unclamp his teeth, or he'll beg and plead, offer up his own murky soul for Sam to just quit fucking about already.

Instead he watches intently as the thing with his brother's face leans closer and closer until the small gusts of his sweet breath ghost deliciously against the many tiny open wounds peppering his flesh.

Sam's eyes flutter shut, lips parting ever so slightly before he clamps down viciously, suckling hard against the closest weeping cut.

The roar that fills his ears is deafening in it's pitch, long drawn out and glorious!

_How can you just leave me standing?_   
_Alone in a world so cold? (World so cold)_   
_Maybe I'm just too demanding_   
_Maybe I'm just like my father too bold_   
_Maybe you're just like my mother_   
_She's never satisfied (She's never satisfied)_   
_Why do we scream at each other_   
_This is what it sounds like_   
_When doves cry_


End file.
